Troublemakers
by Mirufey
Summary: Their fight to the death resulted in one losing his memories and the other losing his illusions. They meet again a month later, and perhaps this time, Kyouya and Mukuro's feelings for each other will become something...less homicidal. Collab with Ourliazo, AU, 10YL, dirty humour
1. Chapter 1

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **A/N:** Ourliazo and I bonded over dirty jokes, so a collab fic full of them was kinda meant to happen.

* * *

The Sacco Di Lusso's _Trionfo_ penthouse has garishly disproportionate windows overlooking the bright Milanese metropolis. Kyouya curtains them all. He would enjoy the hotel more if the opulence was less blatant. Not everything has to be in gold and bedazzled with diamonds, but perhaps he's just projecting his irritation onto the nearest surface.

He'd patrolled along corridors for an hour, waiting on the Vongola to finally do their job. The target had committed a streak of famiglia genocides, flying to number one on their hit list. The building is already under lockdown, but pinpointing the target's location was complicated by the fact that he'd come in disguise.

"Found him!" Giannini suddenly crows into his earpiece. " _Opulenza_ suite, 69th floor!"

Kyouya's phone screen lights up. He takes in the still shot of a man with short black hair, the kind of dull brown eyes that come from contact lenses, and an insignificant navy suit. He catalouges height, weight and possible hidden weapons other than the usual trident, then strides for the private elevator.

He steps out into a blindingly lit corridor, his eyes flickering to a passerby with long indigo hair. The man, who'd had the unfortunate idea of styling a trench coat with thigh-high hooker boots, gives him a coquettish smirk.

Kyouya dismisses him as a prostitute.

He pulls the cuffs of his sleeves to straighten out his suit as the _Opulenza_ comes into sight. The door detaches from the frame with a loud and shuddering 'crack', flying across the room and slamming into the opposite wall from his kick. Kyouya sweeps in, brandishing his tonfas.

The windows are wide open, a strong current chilling the room and overpowering the faint humidity. Kyouya regards the empty suite with a cool stare. He leans over the windowsill, almost hoping that the target is hanging from the ledge by just his fingertips, but there's no sign of him.

He slips back into the elevator just as the hotel's security sprint down the corridor. He's reaching out to scan his keycard when he comes to a sudden halt. A series of Japanese characters have been scrawled across the mirror walls, the blood red lipstick crooked with the motor skills of a two year old:

' _Fuck me, Hibari-senpai.'_

"Wao," Kyouya deadpans, irritation rising to the surface. He might even forgo the clinical distance tonfa provide and shatter the bones with his bare hands.

The glittering Milanese skyline he clearly remembers curtaining greets him as he reaches the _Trionfo_. Kyouya steps silently from the elevator, his gaze sweeping across the layout.

The indigo-haired man he'd encountered earlier is spread across the bed and hundreds of vanilla candles are now scattered across the huge penthouse suite. He stares at Kyouya with half-lidded eyes as he lazily sips his martini and sucks on its olive with deliberation.

The freak is going to eat the glass, Kyouya decides, Cloud flames engulfing his tonfas. He most certainly did not order a prostitute into his suite.

The man abandons the drink and throws himself away from the first strike, a wicked smirk quirking his lips. Kyouya's tonfa skims the man's trailing hair and shatters the headboard. The target laughs as he rolls to his feet, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming as he conjures a trident from thin air.

 _The target._

"Your name, herbivore," Kyouya demands, vaulting over the king-sized bed with a rush of excitement. His foot misses the herbivore's skull by less than a centimetre but opens a cavity into the adjacent bathroom.

"Oh?" the man purrs, swinging wide with his trident, candlelights flickering behind him. "Such interest in me. Is it love at first sight?"

Kyouya ducks the swing and the Mist covered dagger aimed for his torso. "I'll bite you to death," he intones.

He charges forward, deliberately lashing out just a little short with his tonfa, expecting the man to lean back. The smug delight in his opponent's eyes vanishes when Kyouya releases his chain mid-swing. The other is forced to twist and drop, already off-balance from the sudden move backwards.

The spike at the end of the chain clips the Mist's cheek and Kyouya stomps down before the man has time to recover, catching his ankle. While he's off balance, Kyouya lands another hit straight to the sternum and he goes down.

The Cloud then hurls a tonfa across the room and the real Mist user reveals himself when he dodges. Kyouya kicks the illusion in the face before advancing towards the real one.

The other man's red eye twitches a bit. "Kufufufu, Kyouya, _kufufufuck you_."

"I'd rather not," Kyouya deadpans, his pace even and unhurried as he circles around the couches in the middle of the room. "I'm afraid I might get an infection." He flicks up the thrown tonfa with his foot once the weapon is within reach, snatching it out of the air.

The other smirks widely, twirling his trident as if Kyouya would fall for that staged vulnerability. "The more the merrier, Kyouya."

"Is that motto how you got pinkeye?" Kyouya murmurs before breaking into a sudden sprint, his tonfa clashing with the trident in a shower of sparks.

"That's because you're being an eyesore," the man explains as if he's revealing the mysteries of the universe. He leans into the force, abusing his height advantage.

"I'll give you more than a sore eye, herbivore."

Kyouya spins away, the sudden lack of opposing force making the Mist stumble right into the second tonfa and it clips his shoulder. The Mist recovers fast enough to punish Kyouya with a long cut across his thigh.

The insufferable laugh returns. "How about I make you sore in places you've never imagined?" the Mist mocks, eyeing the torn fabric of Kyouya's pants and the pale white skin it exposes.

Kyouya barely reacts, only flicking his wrists to summon spikes along his weapons. "How about I make you sore in places you _have_ imagined?" he echoes. "Mostly kidneys and your face."

They blur into a series of silver and purple streaks, in a cacophony of metal against metal.

The target is smiling, a tinge of madness glinting in his mismatched eyes. "Let's make this a little more interesting," he drawls.

He lunges forward and Kyouya shifts the grip on his tonfas, ready to meet the trade. But Instead of aiming for the Cloud, he goes for the many candles scattered across the hotel suite.

They fall like dominoes and the small flickers of flames catch, instantly turning into a raging fire once it sinks teeth into the carpet. It's too fast for a normal fire. The smoke detector squeaks, dangling uselessly from the ceiling as a casualty of their fight. The sprinklers don't respond.

Kyouya snarls, lashing out with a chain. They shove each other back with every hit, trying to push the other into the fire that now holds domain over more than half the room. It greedily licks up the walls and strains for the ceiling, eager to spread.

Within seconds there's a mild haze over the ceiling of the room, quickly building to a far more opaque grey streaked with faint purple. Kyouya leaps back from the exchange of blows and crouches low to get away from the worst of the smoke. A harsh coughing fit takes him.

The target rams his trident spokes into the elevator panel before weaving around patches of flames to stand in the doorway of the emergency stairs. He pauses for a moment to scoop up the bottle of gin from a nearby table.

Kyouya tucks the lower half of his face into the crook of his elbow and assesses the situation. There's fire everywhere and its fuel is chemical based. All Kyouya can smell is rotten vanilla, and that motherfucker is blocking the only exit.

Kyouya sways and catches himself with one hand on the ground. He can't wait any longer. He tightens his grip on the tonfas and sprints forward.

The Mist smirks as he ducks through the emergency exit. Right before he slams the heavy door shut, he smashes the bottle against the door. Kyouya slams into it with his shoulder, all of his weight behind the hit, but it doesn't even budge.

The fire rears up and Kyouya throws himself into a clear patch of carpet as the flames charge up the door and grow exponentially with alcohol.

Kyouya pushes himself up on trembling arms, his vision swimming. He shakily reaches into his suit jacket's inner pocket and pulls out a small purple box adorned with the Vongola's family crest. He lights his ring, but with the smoke clouding his head, he pushes too much into the box weapon.

The room explodes in a wave of vicious spikes.

Kyouya's back hits the window and a thousand cracks strike across the glass like lightning in the split second before it shatters. He tumbles through, glass shards scattered around like rain. The wind lashes out at him as he picks up speed in the fall, gripping his clothes and pulling on his hair.

A streak of orange flashes between skyscrapers and plummets with Kyouya, gently cradling him and slowing his uncontrolled descent to a soft landing.

"Kyouya," Tsuna gasps in panic. "Are you okay? _Can you hear me?_ "


	2. Chapter 2

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Kyouya wakes before his alarm, the morning sun too bright behind his eyelids. He automatically reaches for his phone on the bedside table, his arm moving more sluggishly than usual, but his clumsy fingers only brush against a glass tumbler and a hardcover book.

His eyes snap open and he frowns.

He clearly remembers placing his phone on the table beside his box weapon, both of which are now missing. In their place is half a glass of juice and a textbook on mafia law. The Vongola Cloud ring, which Kyouya never takes off his finger, is in an open jewellery box. His desk chair had also been moved to the side of his bed, with a crumpled orange hoodie on its armrest.

Kyouya doesn't recall inviting Tsuna into his bedroom and it bothers him that he hadn't noticed the other's presence while he was sleeping. Why did the herbivore enter his room in the first place?

It takes more effort to sit up than it ever has before. His entire body feels numb, his muscles weak and his fine motor control completely nonexistent. He'd slept badly on one of his arms before and it feels the same now, like a nerve was compressed for too long, only this time, his whole body is affected.

Perhaps the herbivore did something to him and that's why he didn't wake when his room was broken into. It's possible, if the hitman made it a challenge of some sort.

Kyouya slowly shoves the blanket off him and pauses when he sees the clothes he's wearing. They look like the ones he went to sleep in but there's something different, something small and probably a waste of time to look for but it bothers him nonetheless. It appears a bit more worn down.

He shakes off the sensation because finding the thief takes priority, then awkwardly clambers out of bed. He sifts through the contents of his drawers and searches the wardrobe to pat down the pockets of his suits. He doesn't find his phone nor his wallet, and alarm bells start ringing in his head when his box weapon doesn't show up either.

Furthermore, the suit jacket he was planning to wear to his mission tonight isn't in his closet. It's one of his older ones, worn-in and thus comfortable for combat, but it couldn't have been of value to anyone else.

Kyouya's thin patience finally snaps when he sees the empty couch, where he usually keeps his tonfas.

He digs into the closet for his spare tonfas, gets changed and marches out of his room with every intention to break in the new set of weapons. The herbivore had been in his room without his permission, stolen his possessions, and Kyouya was going to take his payment in blood.

* * *

Tsuna shrieks and drops his pen when an irritated Kyouya bursts into the study and looks like he's about to fling a tonfa at the Decimo's head despite being lacking in his usual grace.

For a moment, apprehension washes over Tsuna, but then he's flooded with relief. His fingers twitch but he suppresses the urge to climb over his desk and throw himself at his Cloud Guardian. He stands, almost throwing back the chair, and moves around the desk.

"Kyouya," Tsuna sighs happily, breaking into a wobbly grin and barely keeping back the burning in his eyes. " _You're finally_ \- "

"Explain yourself," Kyouya demands, stalking over and pressing the end of a tonfa under Tsuna's chin. "Why were you in my room?"

Reborn crosses his ankle over his knee and leans back into the couch, watching the drama unfold. "I also want to know what you were doing in Hibari Kyouya's bedroom," he quips with a mischievous smirk.

Tsuna aims a frown at Reborn. "You're going to do this now?"

The pressure under his chin increases, forcing his head up.

"Herbivore," Kyouya seethes. "If my possessions are not returned to me, I will not accompany you to the Sacco Di Lusso."

Tsuna freezes, dread and confusion pooling in his stomach. "The Sacco Di Lusso…?" he murmurs, exchanging a worried glance with Reborn. "The hotel in Milan?"

" _Yes_. You have a meeting with Don Gelaro of the Bertesca Famiglia tonight."

In response to Tsuna's stunned silence, Kyouya slams his other tonfa into the desk, denting the mahogany wood. " _Herbivore_ ," he warns.

Tsuna gives Reborn a discreet nod and the latter leaves to make a call. With trembling fingers, Tsuna pushes the tonfa away from his chin and gestures for his Cloud Guardian to sit.

"Kyouya...that mission in Milan occurred a month ago," he finally answers. "What do you remember?"

* * *

Kyouya does not care whatsoever about missing a month's worth of memories. There's nothing stopping him from functioning normally, and it's not like he can't fight anymore. But when he tries to explain this to the herbivores, they ignore his logic, shove him into the clinic and call some idiot with a 'degree' in Naturopathy.

Reborn scoffs loudly as soon as he hears 'Naturopathy', shifting slightly to lean against the wall of the private room. "Fon, I called you because I thought you'd be helpful. If I knew you'd drag along a-"

"His name is Kawahira," Fon explains to Kyouya, raising his voice to drown out the hitman next to him. He then throws a pointed glance at Reborn. "Please try to refrain from doing anything rude. I would hate to remove someone from the room forcefully."

"I have a better idea," Reborn retorts sarcastically. "Why don't we just _pray to God_ for a swift recovery?"

Fon moves forward to probably make good on his threat to remove Reborn, while Tsuna reaches out as if to block the martial artist despite being across the room and next to the bed Kyouya is sitting on the edge of.

"The hitman stays," Kyouya interrupts even though he'd really like to watch them fight. "He's the only one with any common sense."

"Don't you want your memories back?" Tsuna argues.

"No," Kyouya deadpans. The Vongola keeps records of everything and all he has to do is read the report on the mission in Milan. He's more concerned about no longer being in peak physical condition but that will be dealt with shortly.

There's a quiet knock on the door and Tsuna calls for them to enter.

The first man to step inside the room has short white hair with round glasses, clad in a dark green yukata. Fon bows to him in greeting and leads him over to Kyouya, while a servant brings the briefcases over to the bed.

Kyouya stares at the so-called doctor. The Vongola has claim to the best medical technology available and employs only the best of the best, yet this Kawahira person doesn't even look like he has a practicing licence. Kyouya isn't one to treat a book by it's cover but there's a certain amount of professionalism required, especially in the medical field.

"This should be interesting," Reborn drawls, eyeing the briefcases but cautiously focusing back on Kawahira as the man passes him.

Kyouya slides a glance over to the door, where the silhouette of another man is loitering outside. After a moment of hesitation, the tall man enters. Long navy hair sways as he steps forward, his thigh-high hooker boots clacking against the clinic's tiled flooring. He wears a medical eyepatch and limps slightly as he walks.

Kyouya tilts his head to the side and contemplates the new herbivores. So Fon has brought in a quack doctor and a prostitute.

Wao. He's feeling better already.

* * *

A/N: Mukuro's thigh-high hooker boots are indestructible, Ourliazo says. They survived the fire whereas Kyouya's stuff didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

The last time Rokudo Mukuro encountered the Vongola, he never managed to even lay eyes on the Decimo. Instead, he had been introduced to the Cloud Guardian, a rather lovely specimen if not for his allegiance to the Vongola.

It's funny how things turn out, because Mukuro is now inside the Vongola's mansion, past all of that security, to actually treat one of the Decimo's men. An amnesiac. Mukuro laughs at the irony of it all - he'd killed the Decimo's Cloud Guardian, and now the Decimo wants him to save another.

Beside Mukuro, Kawahira shoots him an irritated glance. "What is it?" he snaps.

Mukuro fixes him with a cold glare. "None of your business."

They wait in the lobby until a butler arrives and leads them to the mansion's clinic. They're dropped off in a private room, pleasant cream coloured walls complimented by a painting of… splattered rabbits? Definitely some kind of animal being ripped apart. There's a lot of red.

The Decimo is hovering fretfully at the bedside of the patient, his usual shadow leaning against the wall a bit further away. Next to the hitman is another in a long red tunic, and the man moves forward when he sees Kawahira enter.

"You're early," Fon says, bowing in greeting to Kawahira. His gaze sweeps over Mukuro. "And this is…?"

"My apprentice," the other man replies, adjusting his spectacles.

Mukuro doesn't hear any of this. His entire focus is concentrated on the Japanese man sitting at the edge of the bed, frowning in annoyance and very much alive.

But _how_?

Mukuro digs his fingers into his shoulder to feel the dull phantom pain, and his empty eye socket sends waves of sharp agony through his skull in response. He nevertheless keeps a straight face, because the Cloud Guardian is appraising him, and the other man no longer remembers who he is.

A blessing, since that got him a ticket into the Vongola's mansion. Mukuro is going to make sure he doesn't let this opportunity go to waste.

It would be easy to kill the Decimo now. The brunet's back is to him and only a few steps away... but Mukuro would never get out alive. Not with the hitman lounging against the wall.

"Mukuro," Kawahira orders, "Set up the healing crystals in widdershins."

The Mist glares back, unamused by the other man's terrible attempt at humour.

"This will be your only warning," Reborn begins. "If crystals come out then so does my gun."

" _Reborn_ ," Fon warns, the serene smile on his face stretching to something a touch too sharp.

Beside him, Tsuna flickers his gaze between the two arguing men, worry in his eyes. On the other hand, Kyouya appears relieved that he's not the only sane person here. The Cloud darts a quick look to his watch, probably wondering when he can leave.

"I'm joking," Kawahira answers a little too late, unperturbed by the threat. "Mukuro, get the incense and soothing stone."

" _Oh, just try me_ ," Reborn dares with narrowed black eyes.

Finally, Tsuna snaps. "You two," he growls, grabbing the hitman and martial artist by their arms and marching them out of the private room. "If you're not going to contribute, then go do something productive."

* * *

The second man is introduced as Rokudo Mukuro, Kawahira's apprentice. Kyouya frowns at the nervous shifting and wary glances from the indigo haired man. He must be skittish because he's going to be treating one of the strongest of the Vongola upper echelon.

Kyouya glances the apprentice over, taking in the reaction, and then dismisses him.

With resignation, Kyouya allows the so-called doctor to ask questions as he examines the medical reports the Vongola's own doctors have prepared. There are no lesions present in the brain but Kawahira insists in going through a series of rudimentary tests to ascertain motor control and nerve function.

Kyouya wonders why Fon introduced Naturopathy as the man's designated field, but then Kawahira does start pulling out and mixing a few herbs together from the briefcases. He explains each one and Kyouya manages to pick out most of them so he knows he isn't being poisoned.

Stupid introduction aside, Kawahira wasn't unlike traditional Chinese herbalists. However, herbal medicine had never been as effective as Kyouya would like. He contemplates biting them to death because there are surely piles of paperwork that have accumulated in his office.

At last, Kawahira wraps the herbal medicine in paper and instructs Kyouya on the dosage, plus when and how to take it. At the same time, Tsuna's phone starts ringing and he leaves the room with a quick apology. Kawahira disappears soon after to go searching for the bathroom.

The room is cleared in under a minute, until only Kyouya and the silent assistant are left.

"What are you smirking at?" Kyouya asks. He wanted to ignore the feeling of eyes drilling holes into his back during the entire examination, but now that it was just the two of them, irritation won him over.

Mukuro glances up from the honeysuckle he was repackaging. "Excuse me?"

Kyouya tries another question. "What's wrong with your hair?"

"There's nothing wrong," Mukuro retorts, almost mechanical.

Ah, so he must be used to his hair pom-pom being questioned. Kyouya hums noncommittally. Mukuro is clutching at his shoulder once again. A blatant tell, but a habit that the man can't seem to drop.

But Mukuro's obvious discomfort in the Cloud's presence is such a mundane reaction that Kyouya almost loses interest. Mukuro bears the same look of his prey once he's done with them, mostly fear mixed with a tinge of admiration and desire for vengeance.

It's probably something personal; perhaps Kyouya had killed his family or friend. It happens all the time, and Kyouya doesn't bother to remember the faces of all of his victims, much less their relatives.

So he just cuts to the chase, because he'd rather assess the man's potential for causing trouble now than have to deal with extra investigations and paperwork later if the latter was the sneaky saboteur type.

"Then tell me," Kyouya says, "Have we met before?"

* * *

 **A/N:** If you're wondering what's the point of this fic, it's obviously to get Kyouya and Mukuro to have crazy smex.


	4. Chapter 4

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Hibari Kyouya really doesn't remember, Mukuro realises as the Cloud Guardian gazes at him coolly, as if they were actually strangers. Amnesia was clearly not something to underestimate.

Kyouya tilts his head at the mixed emotions on Mukuro's face. "I don't care who you are, just don't get in my way. If you try to take revenge, I'll rip out your lungs through your nose and not even feel bad about it."

Mukuro feels a flare of anger, but suppresses it. No need to accidentally trigger any memories. In fact, now that the Vongola doesn't remember, this is the perfect time to dig a bit deeper - find what makes the man tick, and perhaps even pull out a few Vongola secrets while he's at it. "You misunderstand," Mukuro answers.

"Then what is the reason?"

Mukuro smirks and saunters across the room to lean over the still seated man. "I'm simply struck speechless at your beauty," he purrs. And Hibari Kyouya is one fine looker indeed. Especially with his dark lashes and milky white flesh.

"That's physically impossible," Kyouya rejects.

Too bad the other man lacks the imagination to comprehend Mukuro's more elaborate techniques of seduction, so Mukuro will have to go in blunt and simple.

"I want to fuck you," the Mist enunciates slowly so no misunderstanding happens.

"What is a prostitute doing as an apprentice in naturopathy?" Kyouya asks, ignoring Mukuro's condescending words.

Mukuro's smirk doesn't shift but his eyes narrow in annoyance. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh," Kyouya says in realisation. "My apologies. Is the proper term 'escort'?"

"You might want to reconsider those last few lines, because I assure you, I can fight you even without my weapon," Mukuro answers with a scoff. "Even without the use of illusions."

Kyouya raises an eyebrow. "So you're an illusionist."

Mukuro's smirk falters a bit. "Something like that."

* * *

 _One week earlier..._

Having your life saved by someone you despise is one of the greatest forms of humiliation. Mukuro knows it all too well. However, running back to that same saviour after pushing them away is much, much worse.

But he can't die, not yet, because he still has a mission to fulfill and a promise to keep. Mukuro stands outside Kawahira's door, half wanting the world to burn, but also tormented by utter self-loathing and - dare he say it? - grief.

The agony in his shoulder flares to life as he knocks, and he bites back a snarl. The door is opened in a heartbeat, and a man with white hair and round glasses emerges.

"Oh, it's you," Kawahira deadpans. "I'm a bit busy and -oh- look at the time, it's already I-don't-give-a-fuck o'clock."

The door is slammed in Mukuro's face, the force making his teeth rattle. He'd lost his Mist Flames since that incident at the Sacco di Lusso where his eye was gouged out on that fucking hedgehog, but if he still had his immense power, he'd turn the man inside out and shove Kawahira's stupid glasses right down his throat.

It's not like Mukuro was expected to stay any longer after Kawahira had healed the worst of his wounds, so the man's tantrum makes his blood boil. So what if Mukuro ran off without a thank you? He didn't ask to be dragged back to Kawahira's house, nor did he ask to be saved from the burning Sacco di Lusso in the first place.

He doesn't owe the man a single thing.

To make it absolutely clear that he is not fucking around, he storms off to the nearby ramen restaurant to retrieve the girl Kawahira is currently living with. He also snatches up a very sharp sashimi knife because he can no longer conjure his trident with Mist Flames.

"We didn't quite finish our conversation," Mukuro says, almost conversational as his arm tenses around the girl's throat. His holds the knifepoint over her right eye, smirking bitterly as she looks towards it in fear. "So how about you invite me in and we have a nice chat?"

Kawahira takes four seconds of I-pin being suffocated and then opens the door wider and steps aside for Mukuro to enter.

Mukuro takes stock of the layout but nothing has changed from when he was last here. He drags the girl with him to the traditional Japanese chabudai table and gestures for Kawahira to take a seat first. The man obliges with a blank expression on his face.

Mukuro shoves the girl onto the floor beside him, out of arm's reach from the other man, and then sits on another cushion. They spend a moment glaring at each other.

"I-pin," Kawahira says gently to the wary girl. "Would you please make our guest here some tea?" Then to Mukuro he adds, "Our garlic tea is sublime."

Mukuro places a hand on the girl's shoulder when she begins to stand and pushes her back down into the cushion. "I'm not a tea drinker," he says because he's really not, plus it would be plain stupid to let his leverage escape.

"How about gyoza?"

Mukuro tilts the sashimi knife so the ceiling light reflects off the blade.

"What do you want?" Kawahira grits out.

"My, how forward," Mukuro simpers. "Not even a 'hello'?"

Kawahira says nothing.

Mukuro rolls his remaining eye. "Fine. I seem to be missing my eye, and therefore my Mist flames. It would be ever so nice of you to grow me a new one."

The other man takes a moment to consider. "It'll take time. You'll pay for it by becoming my apprentice."

"And what do you do?"

"Naturopathy," Kawahira answers proudly.

Mukuro looks toward the heavens because clearly someone is up there and they hate him with a passion. He doesn't see the smile on Kawahira's face. If he did, he'd be able to tell that it's a form of duper's delight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The visits occur once a week and every week it just gets worse.

During most of those visits, there isn't even a checkup - they only send someone to deliver more of his herbal medicine, the effectiveness of which remains doubtful. Maybe he's been sleeping a little better and admittedly feels a bit more energetic overall, but unfortunately Kawahira sends Mukuro, whose irritating presence cancels out the benefits. Kyouya honestly doesn't know why one of his men couldn't pick it up on his behalf.

"What are you doing?" Kyouya deadpans one month in, once again banished to the private clinic's cot with Mukuro's fingers on Kyouya's inner thigh.

"I'm helping you recover," Mukuro explains patiently as if Kyouya is the difficult one. His fingers press into the Cloud's thigh, moving in small circles. "Something, something, endorphins. Just hush and let me touch you."

Kyouya forgoes the tonfa and aims a kick for between Mukuro's legs. The Mist barely dodges by throwing himself back onto the floor. He grabs Kyouya's calf and drags the Guardian off the bed and onto him.

Tsuna passes by in the hall outside and doesn't even bother opening the door when he hears loud clattering like a bedside table is being shoved over. "Kyouya, please try not to kill the assistant. Funerals are quite expensive."

"It'll be a cremation," Kyouya snarls and violet flames burst to life on his tonfas.

Mukuro just smiles, arching his back up to peck Kyouya on the lips. Kyouya bites down and leans away to spit out blood and a bit of flesh from Mukuro's bottom lip.

He'll have to check for diseases with one of the Vongola's doctors later.

* * *

"Why do you keep coming?" Kyouya asks Mukuro somewhere around two months after their first encounter. He begrudgingly takes the packages of herbs from the latter at Tsuna's perpetual insistence. Something about Korean gingseng improving vitality and mental stimulation. He still remembers nothing from that mission in Milan though, even after pouring over all relevant documents.

"Oh, I just really love helping people," Mukuro chirps before he withdraws several taper candles from his coat pocket and sticks them into the empty candelabra he holds.

"What are those for?"

"I'm trying to submerge you in your memories to trigger something," Mukuro explains as he pulls out a lighter as well and sets the candles alight. Then he sets the bed alight.

"And creating a fire is doing that how?" Kyouya asks in irritation as he slips off the cot and closer to the door. He wouldn't put it past the man to block the only exit and let Kyouya burn up just for fun.

"Did you not read the mission file?" Mukuro hums as he steps back and admires the quickly spreading flames.

"I did. You, on the other hand, are not allowed to read mission files."

Mukuro pauses and casts a wicked smirk at Kyouya. "Oh, I didn't."

Kyouya is about to reply when the smoke created finally sets off the sprinklers and the room is soon filled with concerned Vongola subordinates.

* * *

Kyouya groans when Mukuro bursts through the door and gives vigorous jazz hands three months after the initial visit.

"I wish I was still in a coma," the Cloud mutters.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm not something you can wake up from," Mukuro chuckles with a 'kufufu'. "But there's no need for sleep when I'm playing with you all night long."

Kyouya frowns at yet another crude insinuation. Perhaps he needs to be clearer. "What I feel for you is fifty percent disgust, twenty percent exhaustion and seventy percent _sheer rage_."

"That's more than one hundred percent," Mukuro argues.

"My hatred for you cannot be contained in a measly one hundred."

* * *

"You've been a bit restless lately," Tsuna begins delicately, appearing as if he'd put all of his will power into not crawling under his desk at the stare Kyouya aims towards him. "So, um, would you like to go and beat up the Carcassa?"

"Okay," Kyouya says, turning to leave the room.

"Wait!" Tsuna cries, "Let me tell you about them first! You can't just charge into their territory and rip it apart!"

He directs a glare at the Vongola Decimo. Of course he knows the Vindice laws - knowing how and when to declare war was part of his job description. Just because the herbivore was learning it now on behest of the hitman didn't mean he was suddenly the only one who understood.

Tsuna smiles sheepishly under the glare. "Never mind, I'm sure you've got it."

So Kyouya makes his exit, passing Fon in the hallway, who's been lingering within the Vongola for a strangely long amount of time. The martial artist is trailing after Reborn and Kyouya frowns at the thought of them fighting without him. He shakes it off and heads to his office, where he spends the next hour going through reports. He does it himself, because even though Tsuna insists he hires an assistant, he has yet to meet someone up to his standards in the Vongola and Kusakabe is still preoccupied in Japan.

The Carcassa are being louder than usual, straying into other famiglia's territories and flaunting a sudden increase in weapons and money. It's against Vindice law to randomly attack another Family without provocation, so Kyouya therefore needs to find evidence, which requires paying the Carcassa a visit and either snooping or outright pulling it from them along with a few teeth.

* * *

"What's that look for?" Mukuro asks in fascination, tilting his head so his hair spills over his shoulder.

"It's annoyance," Kyouya deadpans, back on the damn clinic's cot. He'd do this elsewhere but he doesn't want Mukuro near his private rooms, much less in one.

"No, no," Mukuro chuckles. "Behind all of those normal emotions. What's that little bit of excitement and bloodlust that has you looking so delectable?"

Kyouya ignores him. The Cloud is actually excited to be going on a mission for the first time since recovering from his coma. It bothers him a little, being read by someone else. It's something he will have to change but for now it's fine. Mukuro is not a threat to anything except Kyouya's blood pressure and mental state.

Mukuro never does take well to being dismissed so he bothers Kyouya about the mission in his usual fashion of mixing lascivious remarks and mocking commentary, until Kyouya finally admits it's involved with the Carcassa just to shut him up. At the name, Mukuro gets a considering look on his face and ends up leaving the session early.

He could not be more suspicious if he tried, so of course Kyouya follows, hoping that he'll stumble onto something illegal and bite Mukuro to death in a way that the Decimo can't whinge about later.

* * *

A/N: We all know the _real_ reason why Kyouya's taking Korean gingseng lmao ;) I hear it's very potent.

So Satanic Secretary asked what Mukuro is wearing other than his coat, eyepatch and thigh-high hooker boots. He's obviously stark naked underneath, just the way Kyouya likes it. Though sometimes he wears tight leather pants and Ourliazo says he has a budgie smuggler too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Twenty minutes on Mukuro's tail, it occurs to Kyouya that perhaps the former had deliberately lured him to an unknown location. Not that it concerns him much - if Mukuro had wanted to set a trap, Kyouya would just leave a sea of corpses in the middle of nowhere, under circumstances so mysterious that the Vindice would never be able to convict him.

He's done it before.

Mukuro disappears into an apartment looking so run down it must be against several health and safety regulations. Kyouya waits to see if he'll emerge again but after nothing but silence he circles around the back and looks through a window into a small kitchen.

There's no one in sight so he pries up the window and slips inside without a sound. He stays low in a crouch and edges around the kitchen bench into the connected living room. He takes the stairs with one hand on the rail, ready to vault over and out of view.

No one approaches but Kyouya does hear voices coming from behind a half open door. He reaches the landing and peers around a wall to find a half open door a few meters down the hallway and opposite the side Kyouya is currently on.

Kyouya sits down on the stairs, out of view, but close enough that he can hear everything.

"He's a great asset," Mukuro's voice says. "He's strong, plus he has blanket permission from the Vongola."

Kyouya narrows his eyes.

"So why don't we invite him in?" Mukuro hums. "Kufufufu, I can tell you followed me, Kyo-chan~"

Kyouya grits his teeth and stands, storming over to the door as his tonfas fall into his hands. He knocks the door open hard enough that the handle creates a dent in the wall and stalks inside with a glare on his face.

There are three others except for Mukuro, who's perched on the couch. A blond is crouching on the floor like an animal, a man wearing glasses and a beanie is leaning on a wall, and a woman cleaning a clarinet is on the couch next to Mukuro.

They tense at his appearance, raising their weapons. The blond bares his sharp animalistic teeth and snarls.

"You might not want to pounce on him quite yet, Ken," Mukuro drawls, stretching his long limbs on the couch. "He might, ah, ' _bite you to death_.'"

"Let's see who does it first!" the blond barks out and charges.

Kyouya sends him flying through the wall and into the next room.

"Your herbivores are less than impressive," Kyouya deadpans to Mukuro.

Mukuro facepalms. "That was Ken," he says with a sigh. "The one in the beanie is Chikusa, and the redhead is MM."

"Stands for Money Maker," MM supplies, her glare anything but friendly. Kyouya gets the impression that she's evaluating how much his organs are worth.

"There was another one," Mukuro says with an odd inflection in his voice. " _Nagi_."

* * *

 _Three weeks ago..._

As soon as Mukuro has recovered enough to walk on his own, he leaves Kawahira's house, needing to get as far away as possible to nurse his wounded pride. Of course, he steals several of Kawahira's possessions and pawns them to get by.

Then he meets her.

She was a fragile thing, that girl. She was wearing a thin white dress, and her sickly pale skin seemed to blend right into her clothes. She had the eyes of a slum-dweller who had lost their spirit through perpetual hardships, except the dress was clearly expensive and she didn't have a speck of dirt on her.

She takes him home like some stray cat and hides him in the large house she spends most of her time alone in. She doesn't ask who he is or why he's injured, the silly girl. She just takes care of him, brings medical supplies for his wounds and makes sure he's eating despite being so sickly herself.

Mukuro is sitting on the upstairs landing one day, listening to the mother's cruel berating. The woman doesn't raise her voice nor a hand but Mukuro doesn't need to be a genius to realise words can leave marks - just not visible ones.

He can't help but see someone he could have been, if he didn't take a far more ruthless route. If he's a bit more distant with Nagi for the rest of the week, a bit more biting with his words, then she doesn't comment either way.

Nagi doesn't come home one day, but Mukuro hears a conversation between the mother and the stepfather, a clinical debate on why they should let their daughter die instead of wasting resources on what the doctor's say is a hopeless case.

Mukuro finds her in hospital, and holds her hand as her eyes slip closed. His mind supplies him with a way to elongate her life, but his empty eye socket throbs painfully behind his eyepatch, a grim reminder that he is powerless without his illusions. The eye made him stronger, but it was the only source of his Mist flames after the experimentation damaged him.

Nagi is buried on a sunny afternoon, with no one to watch over her as she's laid to rest except a stray she once took in.

"It's because you were weak," Mukuro says to the gravestone conversationally. Mukuro is a master of illusions despite the power being locked away from him. He can even believe his own lies.

Mukuro allows himself a day to mourn the young woman who was too kind for this world, and then goes hunting. The absence of his Mist flames are going to get him killed, and so the most logical route is to just fix it.

Shouldn't be too hard. It's not like Kawahira has moved houses.

* * *

 _Present..._

Over the months he has known Kyouya, Mukuro likes to think he's cracked at least part of the Vongola Cloud Guardian's mysterious nature to read him more easily and manipulate him to some extent.

To Mukuro's credit, Kyouya did fall for his painfully obvious lure, and it plays out just as he'd expected when Kyouya remains put while Mukuro and his gang dangle more information about the Carcassa above his head. Carefully selected information of course, to emphasise that the Carcassa are violating Kyouya's personal values and thus making the latter more inclined to join Mukuro's cause.

"So to put it simply, the Carcassa are making waves," MM is explaining, earning a nod from Mukuro's direction as she completes her pitch. "They're stepping up... production and shipping more… product. It's almost time, Mukuro. Are we going through with it or not?"

Mukuro stands up in affirmation, and both Chikusa and MM rise in response. Ken crawls back into the room to take his position by their side.

"What's in it for you?" Kyouya finally asks Mukuro and the others.

A dark expression crosses Mukuro's face. When he glances back at Kyouya, he is smirking, but he displays a hint of something deadly and bloodthirsty behind it. "Perhaps I just love helping people, Kyouya. Do not think so lowly of me."

"'Low' would be an improvement," the Cloud Guardian replies, "But very well - I will assist you just this once."


	7. Chapter 7

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

The manufactured eye is glowing dimly in its tank, amidst a network of thin tubes attached to a large machine. It's been almost six months since the start of the project, and at last it physically resembles an eyeball. The iris is still colourless and Mukuro doubts he will be able to see with the new eye, but he's been blind in one eye for a long time now.

"So," Mukuro begins casually. "I'm going to go fight some Vindice, is the eye done?"

"Just about," Kawahira calls over his shoulder from where he's hunched over the machine. "Just need to tweak the colour."

"I meant with regards to _functionality_."

"In that case, it could go either way," Kawahira answers, making Mukuro grind his teeth in annoyance. He'd come to appreciate Kyouya's straightforward manner of speech, and would much prefer it now as he has no time to play word games with Kawahira.

So he takes the older man's vague response as affirmation and snaps on a pair of surgical gloves. He removes the manufactured eye's feeding tubes, exactly the way he's seen Kawahira do it. Then Mukuro carefully stores the eye inside a bag filled with Celsior solution and drops it into a small box of freezing water.

He wants to pop in the eye immediately, to fill the emptiness since he'd lost his Flames, but going through six paths of hell is far from a pleasant experience. He would only use it during battle, and if he temporarily loses control, the additional chaos would not matter.

"There will be destructive side-effects to using the eye," Kawahira warns, but doesn't stop Mukuro. "The Malocchio hell ring's compatibility-"

Mukuro cuts him off with a bitter laugh. "I know. But without my Mist Flames, I am already dead." He lifts the box. "I suppose I should thank you for your help," he murmurs.

"I suppose you should," Kawahira answers lightly.

Mukuro smiles with teeth and struts out of the room. Then he vows to never return.

* * *

They are currently in the Carcassa's stronghold, each of them raiding a different part of the mansion to maximise efficiency and damage output. And it so happens that Mukuro hits jackpot and pinpoints the Don first.

Mukuro kicks down the door to a large meeting room because there's always that one idiot who stands right behind it and gets knocked out. He's ready to dive to the side but no one fires yet, waiting for a signal.

The guards are surrounding Don Carcassa protectively, already pointing their guns towards Mukuro with steady hands. There's only a handful, most off trying to corral Kyouya into some semblance of a trap.

The Don sees Mukuro and laughs, waving dismissively at the bodyguards to take him out. Mukuro is already moving, ducking under and twisting around the closest to use them as a meat shield. They go down under friendly fire as Mukuro drags them along to the next victim. He takes out three in quick succession, knife arching through the air and digging deep.

Mukuro stabs the last stocky bodyguard with a savage grin, because he's a bit of a diva.

"Who the fuck are you?" Don Carcassa demands, frantically trying to find a full clip to reload his gun. He staggers back when Mukuro moves forward, stumbling once over a corpse splayed on his opulent carpet. Which greatly improved the room's aesthetics.

If Kyouya was in the room, the old man would've been a smear on the floor by now. But Mukuro merely simpers as he takes three quick steps and slides his knife right into the man, slipping between ribs and into the liver.

"Human trafficking, child pornography, drugs and _human experimentation_ ," Mukuro drawls back, then jerks the knife upward and out. He's still smiling, but his eyes gleam with fury and disgust. "How...unrefined."

Don Carcassa howls in pain, gun dropping to the floor and his body soon following as he clutches at his wound. "My family has been in this business for generations," the older man spits at Mukuro. "It is the most profitable. How _dare_ _you_ _insult-_ "

Mukuro can feel the box containing his new eye pressing against his chest in his coat's inner pocket. He towers over Don Carcassa and lifts the knife, allowing warm blood to drip onto the rat's balding head.

"If you wish to speak so much, then I am sure you will be most obliged to answer some questions," Mukuro intones. "What do you know about the Estraneo Famiglia?"

* * *

Kyouya finds a page of usernames and passwords taped to the corner of Don Carcassa's office desk and briefly contemplates whether it is a display of sheer stupidity, or quite obviously a trap.

Upon seeing the portrait of the man hung on the far wall, Kyouya decides that the face does indeed belong to a bumbling idiot and proceeds to search through his laptop, whilst preparing to fight at a moment's notice.

No alarms go off. No subordinates storm in with their guns blazing. Instead, incriminating evidence of embezzlement, fraud, human-trafficking and child pornography emerge almost immediately. Mission fulfilled, Kyouya copies everything into a USB so he can present it to the Vindice later and stalks out of the office in search for blood.

He takes the scenic route around the Carcassa base, winding through hallways and ducking into all of the rooms like those nosy herbivore visitors that paw through the Vongola. He's standing outside a bathroom, waiting patiently for the unknowing man inside to finish washing his hands and emerge, when the building abruptly jerks underneath his feet.

He staggers as the tremors throw him around but it quickly settles again and Kyouya is darting through the hallways to reach the site of the explosion. He rounds a half crumbled wall and finds a large meeting room bathed in heavy indigo flames.

There are creatures scuttling across the walls and ceiling, twig legs clacking together as they move like spiders but look like humans and laugh like something Kyouya never wants to meet. He can hear people screaming, but he's not sure if that's an illusion as well. Surely, people can't make that noise - that high pitched screech like their nerves are being set on fire, or ripped from their body.

Kyouya steps forward, hesitant, but the paces after come smoothly. He is not one to bow.

He goes into the Mist and isn't remotely surprised when his visibility drops to near blindness. He takes out a few closer herbivores, either when they run into him in a desperate attempt at getting out of the Mist flames or when he finds them curled up on the floor, shaking.

It's pure accident that he steps out into a brief clearing and finds Mukuro slowly unwinding a blond like the man was a spool of ribbon.

"Mukuro," Kyouya calls out, grip tight on his tonfas.

The purple-haired man turns to him and stares with one brilliant blue eye and one a cloudy grey. Then Mukuro charges.

* * *

Mukuro can hear someone calling his name - shouting it in anger. Their words are muted and distorted, like he's underwater and they're just too far away.

"Come back to me," they say.

And Mukuro tries - he tries so hard, but this eye is poison.

"Mukuro, stop. This isn't you."

But oh, it is, this is all him. This monster's name is Mukuro and he likes long walks through blood soaked streets and lovely little Skylarks who… Skylarks?

"Mukuro, you _irritating degenerate_. I will shove my tonfa _straight through your eye socket_ if you persist in attacking me."

Mukuro grinds to a halt and blinks slowly, coming to himself in a completely destroyed room, pinning Kyouya to the floor with a trident across the man's chest. A shaky laugh leaves him, muscles going limp. "Well, would you look at that," he murmurs. "True love fixes everything."

Kyouya headbutts him in the face hard enough to knock him out, right as the Vindice teleport in.


	8. Chapter 8

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Uncontested rumours state that Vendicare breaks even the strongest of men, supported by reports demonstrating significant changes in their convicts' psyches over the duration of their captivity.

Kyouya entertains the idea that he might be the exception, but before the Vindice can take his mugshots in the waiting area, a guard unlocks his cuffs and sends him back above ground. He sees Tsuna first, and there is a concerned frown on the Decimo's face. Behind him are Fon and Reborn, standing close.

Fon moves forward to meet Kyouya when he comes into sight. "Are you okay?" the martial artist asks, peering at Kyouya's black eye.

Kyouya shrugs. "There was a disagreement," he states plainly.

"A disagreement," Tsuna drawls. "Do we use the same definition?"

Kyouya purses his lips and says nothing.

Tsuna sighs heavily. "It's fine. I mean I always expected that I'd have to bail you out so it's not a shock or anything. I can't even bring myself to be disappointed in you."

"There's another one," Kyouya says. "He was with me."

"The doctor?" Tsuna frowns. "I'd need to call in a lot of favours and I really don't want to use up more resources than I absolutely have to. What is Mukuro going to do for the Vongola?"

It isn't in Kyouya's nature to defend others, especially when they constantly pose a threat to the stability of his blood pressure, but...

"He doesn't have to do anything," Kyouya argues. "Under Article fifty-seven of the Vindice Convention, subsection two, you are required to provide protection to those seeking sanctuary until such time as it is no longer needed."

Orange eyes flash in warning. "Kyouya," Tsuna warns quietly. "He broke the conditions of sanctuary by involving himself with another famiglia of his own volition, and attacked them without provocation. Furthermore, sanctuary was never even discussed as there was no real or reasonable risk of Mukuro's life being in more danger than what any man in the mafia would be exposed to."

Kyouya frowns in annoyance. An emotional plea would be most effective, but Kyouya will not lower himself by showing pity to Mukuro. Maybe he should just tonfa the Decimo until the man gives in? He shakes that thought away. "Vendicare is a real threat to his physical body and mind. Furthermore, he assisted with eradicating the Carcassa - this matter should not be brushed off by merely gifting him with a fruit basket."

"His assistance was uncalled for," Tsuna replies. "Unless you mean to say that you couldn't have handled it yourself?"

Kyouya grits his teeth at the implied insult.

Tsuna offers an apologetic smile. "I want to be convinced, Kyouya, I really do. But if he goes off again then Vongola will be the one taking the hit."

"He was employed by the Vongola as a doctor. You are therefore responsible for him." Kyouya argues, "He is also a powerful illusionist and would make a great asset. Especially when other Dons are questioning your legitimacy as the Decimo since you still do not have a full set of Guardians."

Then Kyouya narrows his eyes at Tsuna. "There is no need for another argument. You are just trying to see how much I'd fight for him."

Tsuna continues to fixate his orange gaze on Kyouya for a long moment, displeasure filling his expression. Then he sighs and takes out his phone before dialling a number.

"Bermuda," Tsuna greets, his tone cold and authoritative. "Word has reached me that my _Mist Guardian_ is also in your prison. Would you care to tell me why I have not been informed of this?"

Now it's only a matter of time before the pineapple-haired freak is back in the wild.

* * *

Mukuro smiles at Kyouya when he's led out of the prison. It's cautious and a little bit stunned but so grateful and relieved.

Kyouya avoids him for the next week.

The Cloud eventually tightens his grip on his own emotions and decides something needs to be done before he either degenerates into some kind of herbivore or just ends up taking care of the problematic man. Permanently.

Kyouya realises he needs some advice about the strange non-homicidal way his heart picks up when he's around Mukuro, so he goes to Fon.

He asks around and eventually Tsuna points him towards the private gym for Vongola Guardians. He walks in and looks over the rather large room filled with machines that the Decimo purchased in hopes that his friends would stop trying to murder each other in spars.

Kyouya spots a hint of red through the equipment scattered about like ungainly trees and weaves around the large contraptions towards it. He sees Fon on the other end of the room, in the open area.

The martial artist's shirt has been discarded to the side and sweat sticks to his figure as he goes through basic push ups, probably a cool down. Reborn is lying beside Fon, on his back with hands pillowed under his head and hat tipped over his eyes.

Kyouya pauses, sensing something strange with the atmosphere. The other men are talking quietly, only a low hum to Kyouya's ears.

Reborn suddenly grins and his hat is left on the ground as he rolls quickly, smoothly twisting so he's lying under Fon. The martial artists lowers himself in his nth push up and plants a solid kiss on the hitman's lips.

Kyouya's eyes go wide.

Reborn mutters a faint complaint when Fon lifts up again, the other man's exercise not faltering for a second.

"I haven't finished my set," Fon says teasingly, loud enough to drown out Reborn's grumbling and thus for Kyouya to make out the words.

Fon drops down again and presses a chaste kiss to Reborn's cheek and then in another drop he goes for the hitman's nose. Reborn is laughing now, eyes bright in happiness.

It's the single most disgustingly adorable thing Kyouya has ever seen and he's already feeling a sickening 'aww' building up at the back of his throat. This needs to stop immediately. He wrenches out a tonfa with more desperation than he's felt in a while and slams it into the closest machine - something to work the legs.

The metal screeches as it gives under his force and dents hard. Fon's head snaps up and he quickly rolls off Reborn and onto his feet. The hitman is far more unconcerned when he moves, grabbing his hat and rising, but the motion is just as smooth and graceful.

Kyouya frowns. "Your love sickens me. Never do that in my presence ever again."

Reborn looks like he's about to say something, expression completely unrepentant, but Fon swats him on the hip and murmurs low so Kyouya can't hear. The hitman huffs but stays silent.

It's a waste of time, anyway. Fon recommends that Kyouya 'be truthful' about his 'feelings' towards the irritating Pineapple. What a ridiculous concept.

Then Reborn offers something sensible. "Make Mukuro take the first step," the hitman suggests. "So you can act like you're lowering yourself to be with him, gracing Mukuro with your presence so he's indebted to you and the relationship can start out when you're already one step ahead."

Fon's eyes snap to the other man, realisation blooming on his face. Reborn smiles charmingly at the martial artist, completely unrepentant. Kyouya looks between the two and is even more impressed at the blatant evidence. Clearly, the hitman is a tactical genius.

Kyouya places a hand on Reborn's shoulder. "I approve of your relations with Fon despite feeling slightly nauseous. He will take good care of you, but if he does upset you, come to me and I'll deal with him."

Fon looks offended but Reborn appears bemused. "Thank you?"

Kyouya nods and strides out of the room. He has a Mukuro to domesticate.


	9. Chapter 9

**Troublemakers**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

"Korean gingseng," Kyouya deadpans, "What were you thinking?"

"It was the most logical choice," Mukuro answers with an insufferable smirk. "You have shown significant improvements in your health - physical, mental _and_ sexual."

Mukuro is lying on his side, coyly stroking his own thigh. Even as Tsuna's newly appointed Mist Guardian, he refuses to ditch his leather pants and hooker boots in favour of trousers and dress shoes.

Kyouya tilts his head. "You really have no idea what you are talking about."

"Is that so." Peering at him with half-lidded eyes, Mukuro loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt. Then the gloves come off and so do the boots.

Kyouya's gaze trails down to Mukuro's exposed chest. It bothers him that he doesn't _want_ to look away. "So the navy is natural," he says at last, choosing to focus on the scattering of chest hair.

Mukuro looks offended. "I don't dye my hair." The smirk widens. "Let me show you."

Kyouya rolls his eyes and walks out of the room to cool off his head as Mukuro tries to wriggle out of his tight leather pants.

His skin is so pale, and he's so thin. Kyouya wonders how Mukuro can treat patients when he can't even take care of himself.

* * *

After being referred to as a prostitute by Kyouya for so long, Mukuro cannot help but grin at the thought of Kyouya encountering actual prostitutes. Not that the Cloud hasn't seen prostitutes from a distance before - this _is_ the mafia - but none of the people Kyouya surrounds himself with seem to be the type to bring in a floozy.

And all offence meant to prostitutes; Mukuro's sense of fashion _is_ clearly superior. His leather pants outline his figure much better than lingerie ever could, and he just loves the way his thigh-high boots allow him to tower over Kyouya even more than he already does.

"It's ugly," Kyouya deadpans, not for the first time. "It makes you look ridiculous."

"Uh, no," Mukuro begins. "The boots are amazing."

"Nice argument - you've really changed my mind," Kyouya snaps back.

"I bet I could get Reborn to wear some - Fon would like that, wouldn't he?"

"Do not talk about my baby like that."

Mukuro splutters. "Bab- hold on, what?"

"The hitman," Kyouya explains. "The baby."

"You gave the hitman a pet name?!"

"It's a descriptor. Before. There was an entire thing."

"Do I get a cute name?"

" _Pineapple_."

* * *

"Kyouya," Fon says, interrupting yet another 'Mukuro Rant'. "Maybe instead of talking to Reborn and me, you could talk to Mukuro instead and tell him what annoys you so he won't do it again."

Kyouya frowns in frustration. "If I tell him, he'll just become more annoying."

Reborn clears his throat. "What Fon meant to say was 'stop bothering us'."

"I didn't," Fon says quickly.

Reborn continues over the top. "I don't know if you plan it or you just have awful timing, but whenever you show up, it's about five seconds before I end up in bed - _definitely not to sleep_ \- so I would appreciate it if you could tone down the psychiatrist sessions we've got going on right now."

"Ignore Reborn," Fon insists. "Any time you need us-"

Reborn stands up. "Excuse me, Kyouya, but I'm going back to my bedroom to _entertain_ myself." He glances at Fon. "Meet me in the next five minutes and maybe I'll let you bench press me with your dick." The hitman saunters out.

Fon looks between the door Reborn just left through and Kyouya, indecisive. "I promise, we can talk later as much as you'd like," he swears before lurching to his feet and quickly disappearing after Reborn.

Kyouya makes a disgusted sound and leaves, but he can't quite ignore the hint of desire that stirs within him. He goes straight to his own bedroom, where a navy-haired hooker is expectedly waiting for him.

"Fine," Kyouya declares. "Just this once."

"...What?" Mukuro asks in confusion, certainly not expecting Kyouya to crawl on top of him, nor for him to take his mouth with such aggressive force and passion. "Kyo- _mmmmph~!_ "

* * *

"I think... I love you."

Kyouya says nothing for a long moment, still basking in the afterglow of their… _affection_ and then nods. "You're...not too bad," he admits.

"That's not quite the proper response, but you're getting there. At least you didn't make a disgusted expression like last time."

Mukuro, still naked, pulls Kyouya closer to him. Kyouya hesitates before settling in beside the other.

"You're not good at this cuddling thing," Mukuro teases.

Kyouya glares until he realises he has a whole new way of making Mukuro shut the fuck up. He rolls on top of the other and their mouths fit together perfectly.

 _Yeah_ , Kyouya thinks as he is once again overtaken by the desire for that white-hot pleasure. _Could be worse._

* * *

Kyouya feels a prickly sensation on his head, something like… a small lock of hair being tugged at. He turns and finds Mukuro standing far too close.

Mukuro is staring back at him, and Kyouya can feel the other man's breath tickling his nose. In one hand, Mukuro holds a small ziplock bag, and the other is gently shoving several hairs into it. Mukuro closes the bag and tucks it away before smiling at Kyouya.

They spend a long moment staring at each other.

"Was that-" Kyouya stops, unsure if it was an illusion or not. Perhaps the man is just messing with him. "Did you just… why?"

"I wanted a momento to remember you by," Mukuro admits, expression mockingly soft as if it was anything close to a romantic moment. "Everytime I feel lonely, I'll touch it and think of you."

Kyouya blinks. "I'm honestly not sure why I haven't killed you yet."

"Me neither," Mukuro chuckles with a 'kufufufu' and spins on his heel to get a head start.

Kyouya grabs the man's long hair and with a flick of his wrist he calls out the razors along his tonfa. "To remember you by," he grits out before swinging down.

Mukuro disperses into Mist.

When he reappears, Mukuro is by the door with his back to Kyouya. For a moment he hesitates, reminding Kyouya of their first meeting at the Vongola Mansion all those months ago.

"I'm leaving," Mukuro says quietly, the ever-present snark absent from his tone. He lifts his hand, and Kyouya notices the Vongola Mist ring missing from his finger.

Kyouya remains silent, unsure of what to say. It shouldn't matter to him that Mukuro wants to leave the Vongola, since it's not within his nature to be kept as some kind of pet. But Kyouya thinks about Fon and Reborn, and the inexplicable warmth that sparks in his chest.

Before he knows it, he has bridged the gap between them and grabbed the other man's wrist.

"Don't worry," Mukuro says, flickering a glance back at Kyouya in a condescending way. "I'll keep contact. Stop blocking me on your phone and we'll be good."

"You'll send me pictures of your penis," Kyouya deadpans in annoyance.

Mukuro smirks. "To keep our passionate flame burning."

"I'll _bite you to death_ -"

Mukuro pauses and gazes at Kyouya with an emotion the Cloud can't identify. Then he smiles -not smirks, not grins with too much teeth, just smiles- and steps close. "This isn't forever."

Kyouya holds his gaze and then moves back to his office desk, taking a seat and continuing his paperwork as if no one is in the room with him. Mukuro takes slow but steady paces to the door and finally leaves.

Tsuna appears at the threshold, looking over his shoulder at Mukuro's tense figure, and then quietly enters the room. Tsuna purses his lips, unsure of how to say it. "Mukuro will be back," he reassures Kyouya.

Kyouya reaches up to touch the part of his head where Mukuro had stolen his hair.

"God, I _hope_ not," he mutters.

* * *

 **Final Authors' Notes:**

Ourliazo: Please don't imitate anything you read here. The stunts were performed by professional mafiosi and Mukuro is just disturbed; not a good role model whatsoever. Fon and Reborn are also barely functional adults.

Tsuna is the most well adjusted and he willingly associates with these people. That should tell you something.

Mirufey: Also, always use protection, kids. Especially when you don't have Sun Flames to heal STIs. Even if you have Sun Flames, who knows if it'll even be effective.

On that note, this 9-chapter madness is finally complete! Thank you for sticking with us, and we hope to see you again~


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